There Will Be War
by Delillium
Summary: When Flash reconnects with his dead Uncle through the Speed Force, he's reminded of his dead parents and decides to visit his childhood home one last time. However, he not only left bad memories in the south, but also a twelve year old feud between his family and the McCain family. Can Flash and the League finish this family feud off once and for all?
1. I

**There Will Be War**

Flash jolted awake for what must have been the hundredth time that week, his body wracking with shivers as he struggled to recall the events from his previous dream state.

A flash. A lightning bolt?

A man. Not him though. A different man. Someone similar?

He put his hands to the temples of his head, gingerly pressing as he relieved a sigh from his chapped lips. "Relax, Wall. You're just going crazy, that's all.."

He stilled, and sat quietly for a moment before rolling his eyes at his lame excuse for a pep-talk and then practically ripped the covers off from his sweaty body. He shivered in the cold air of the bedroom.

He had rarely ever slept in the Watchtower, maybe when he had a really late shift, but never out of desire. However, for the past week, he found the thought of sleeping alone in his silent apartment, sickening.

He put a hand to his swimming head and closed his eyes. It had always been a side-effect of that night. When the lightning bolt had struck all those chemicals which had spilt onto him, granting him endless speed.

All the speed in the world, yet every time he woke up, and stood, he would be plagued with almost intolerable vertigo.

He leaned against the wall for support skillfully and after just a minute, the vertigo was gone. He regained his posture and grabbed his spare Flash ring, which of course, contained his entire costume. Fresh and new.

He shuffled into the bathroom, slipping off what clothes he did have on, which consisted of boxers and a white T-shirt, and slid into a hot shower which lasted for all of five minutes.

He didn't want to stand beneath that hot jet of water more than he had to this morning. The thought of being slow today, almost repulsed him.

He had those days.

Every once in a while.

Out of the blue.

The days where his legs refused to allow him to simply be slow, or even normal paced. They flat-out refused it.

Then everyone in a while he had those days where his legs commanded he try and run as little as possible, that they were tired.

Usually, however, slowness came with hunger.

He dressed quickly with severely less enthusiasm than usual, but held off on putting the mask on just yet. He held it within one latex palm, looking into the mirror.

The reflection that looked back into his hazel eyes..

It was the one from his dream, but not quite. It had just few differences.

Barry.

He felt a gasp intrude his lungs and his eyes widen. How could he have forgotten the man in his dreams? It had been his Uncle.

Of course.

Absolutely.

Obviously.

He shook his head, eyes searching the sink. It was a subject he tried to refuse as much as possible and buried The death of his Uncle had been one too tragic to speak about since the minute it happened.

The minute he'd heard.

It all came back and with it, a hot flush of tears pounding at the back of his eyeballs which he refused to let pass. He was stronger than this. He was a superhero for Christ's sake. He blinked them back wildly, shooting out minty-fresh toothpaste onto his green toothbrush, and stuck it into his mouth with a jabbing force.

The tears stung, but retreated obediently, and finally, when all had been done for that morning, he slipped the mask onto his head and slowly...

..yes, slowly...

..opened the door, and stepped into the quiet hall of the early morning.

He had a meeting this morning, after all.


	2. II

**There Will Be War**

* * *

Another round of bullets shot by his ear, and his eyes strategically mapped out the wreckage of the terrain as he watched Diana throw her wrists in front of her face as she continued to step forward, her face cringing as the gun lowered to her waist.

She threw her wrists once more, in front of the bullets, just in time, before Superman stepped in front, covering Diana like a hulking mass.

He made his way to the gunslinger, grabbing the infernal weapon and throwing it out of even running distance, before whipping him around to face him, and was about to spot out one of his infamous witty remarks, but what he had not anticipated was the fact that he had one other gun.

The cold steel was being pushed into his stomach before he even had time to think.

He reacted fairly quickly, pushing away as soon as alias was being screamed out, though his reaction could have been better.

The bullet ripped through his abdomen, his eyes widening. The intensity of the agony was intense, and worst of all, his legs were telling his brain to run. To just run.

He knew that with most it worked the other way around. The brain told the limbs what to do, but he felt as though this couldn't possibly apply to himself.

Because if they, wouldn't have his brain told him to slow down, to lie down and try to not spill anymore blood?

He backed up, putting his hand to his stomach.

_'Too much blood..' _

There was too much for him to live, he knew this for certain. He breathed in rasps and just as the corners of his vision begun to dim, he watched as Batman, in a furious rage, grasped the criminal by the neck, slamming him down into the concrete with enough force to crack the cement.

Though, considering they were in Gotham, the cement probably had been pretty weak to start with.

His alias was being screamed out to him, hands were touching him with feather light touches, but all he could feel was the cold. The freezing cold as his heat escaped him.

He shook violently as death slowly grabbed at him.

His eyes widened as he released one last breath and finally, his heart begun to slow down. For the first time in ten years, his heart rate slowed.

It wasn't gone, but everything was becoming..slow, or maybe, it was normal. Everything was as it was before the accident.

"It's slow..everythings slow.." Flash tried to whisper, but he could only manage to say every other sound in each word and came out as nonsense.

"Flash, it's gonna be okay.." John tried to comfort, but Flash could see it in his eyes.

He could see the despair and hopelessness.

"How bad?" He whispered.

No one answered.

He closed his eyes for a moment before re-opening them. Too many things were happening, and suddenly he wasn't on the street anymore but on a gurney, being rushed through the middle of the watch tower.

Eyes.

Eyes watched him.

And in one last attempt to lighten the mood, just one last time, he mustered his strength, and raised his arm to wave.

"Hi.." He murmured before his arm fell flat, and so did his pulse.

* * *

Flash blinked, his eyes opening gradually into the blinding light. A cool breeze tousled his hair and the latex-like road beneath him felt like a comforting blanket of hope.

His fears diminished within seconds and upon inspection of his location, he quickly found a smile to stretch across his face.

The Speed Force.

Again.

He blinked wildly, a soft laugh coming out from his mouth as he spun in a small circle, arms outstretched. He looked the light orange sunset.

"This is..this is great." He murmured, "I'm dead and automatically, I'm sent to the speed force? Cool."

A figure within the sunset became apparent, and as though someone had pressed a fass-forward button, the body was suddenly glowering above him. "Wally."

Flash's eyes widened, "Uncle Bear?"

Barry folded his arms, a displeased expression across his face, "Wally, you died heroically, sure, but being sent to the speed force isn't _'cool.'_ You're dead."

Wally shrugged with a small laugh, "Look, Unc, my friends are gonna get us _both _outta here soon enough! We don't have to stay here if J'onn just opens one of those portal thingies. Watch." Wally replied, folding his arms before sitting down quietly onto the rubber pavement.

Barry's eyes softened and as a minute went by, he put a hand tenderly onto his nephew's shoulder, "Wally, that was a one time thing.."

Wally looked up in confusion, and opened to say something, though Barry continued.

"Wally, you're dead. You stay here.."

Wally looked on quietly, his eyes seeming to now sparkle in the light of the orange blaze across the sky. Brimming with tears, Barry swallowed and bent down slowly, taking a seat down beside him.

"I've been watching you for a while now. I'm proud, but I've needed to say something to you for a while now.."

Wally looked away into the setting sun , pealing the red mask off his face as the flow of tears poured down his cheeks, the reflection of the sky within them like liquid gold.

"..Wally, you remember when you were young, don't you? Moving in with me and your Aunt."

Flash's head swam with questions in that very moment, but he bit his tongue and nodded slowly, separating his legs and laying them straight out before him, his hands lying limp on each of his legs.

"..I never told you why you had to leave your parents."

"I never had to ask." Wally whispered, his eyes darting back to meet his Uncle's gaze.

The uncle that had been so much more to him, was here once again. After so many years of wanting to see his face again, here he was.

And now he was crying.

Barry nodded, "I always thought you were too young to remember.."

"Thirteen isn't that young, Uncle Bear."

Barry laughed lightly and put an arm around his nephew, pulling him in closer, "You forgot who you were..I was always just waiting for you to think about them and visit the house you grew up in...visit the family they'd been in a feud with, maybe?"

Wally shook his head, "My parent's were _killed _by them, Unc. I'm not sure they'd be happy to see me anytime soon."

Uncle Barry shook his head with half a smile, "That's where you're wrong, Wallace. Sometimes, people have a funny way of turning themselves around. Seeing what a was right and wrong. Putting away the hate and starting new. You get me?"

Wally shrugged, but quickly put an arm across his shoulders too. He could hardly believe that here he was, once again, being given valuable advice from his Uncle.

"Uncle Bear, sometimes I think that..if you had lived longer, I wouldn't have grown up to be such a screw-up."

The elder man tensed beneath his touch at the words and turned his head to stare deeply within his nephew's eyes. "Wallace R. West, if you say that ever again, so help me God, I'll back hand you. You think you're a screw up? I'll tell you whose a screw-up, and that was your own father. Starting a war over nothing...and the thought of bringing his own son into it."

Wally shrugged once more and suddenly, a fluttering occurred in his heart, electricity sparking at his boots and slowly ate away at his legs.

He gasped and tried to push away to avoid being eaten by this electric monster, but found it useless.

"Oh my God..I can't believe this." Barry whispered with a large smile stretching across his face, "For the love of God, Wally, God must really love you, boy. You're alive. You're coming _back _to life!"

Wally cringed at the immense pain blooming in his stomach and suddenly, everything begun to speed up again, his heart, his head, the world around him was too slow.

He vibrated violently.

And suddenly, everything was gone.

Barry's voice, the latex pavement, the solid gold skies, the slow swaying trees, the cool fall breezes. Gone. Pain was replaced with the immortality, and all at once, everything came back to him.

His eyes opened wide and his body lurched forward, a gasp filling his lungs.

Eyes scanned his body, random words floating through his head as he attempted to piece the sentences together.

"...heart rate...stabilizing..."

"Oh my...can't believe..."

"Doctor! He's...you're a miracle worker!"

Slowly, words started to make sense, sentences made out, and everything became perfectly clear.

"He's back...We did it, Doctor.."

"Flash? Wally? How do you feel? Are you alright? You can stop gripping the sheets son, everything's going to be alright.."

_'Am I...Was I gripping the sheets?' _

__His vision, slightly doubled and bubbly, examined the room before him, the light just a little too bright. He pushed an arm in front of his eyes and blinked for a moment or two before someone pushed his arm down, dimming the lights quickly.

He turned his head to see his left hand still gripping the sheets with as much might as possible. He released it quickly, his brain suddenly finding function once more.

It was a steady process, but he quickly grasped his main functions one step at a time. it was almost as though he was..rebooting.

Had he..died?

"I died.." Flash whispered, seemingly out of breath. He swallowed, his eyes widening slightly, "I died." He repeated this time, with slight more anxiety lacing his words. "I died."

The doctor swallowed, his eyebrows pushed down in concentration, "Technically, Mr. West, you were dead for ninety seconds. We were able to revive you."

Wally swallowed and felt his heart quicken as the doctor leaned forward, looking fearfully out his eyes, "Tell me..tell me what you saw."

Wally sucked in a breath, the minty breath of the doctor in his bubble of personal space. He tried to pull away as much as possible on a hospital bed but found it futile to even attempt the feat.

"Tell me you saw God." He whispered once more, putting a hand carefully onto his bare chest covered with bandages.

Wally shook slightly, "I..I.."

What would he tell him? That he went to a heaven for speedsters only? That they might have a heaven for doctors only?

The shock of being brought back to life itself had left him shellshocked. He shook his head quickly, "S-Stop."

"You saw something, you said something when you woke up. You said something!"

The sudden _'swoosh' _of the door opening was enough to make the doctor lurch back and clear his throat, pulling off his best placid expression. He gave a small smile at the sight of Batman.

"Get out, now." Batman murmured, pushing past the smiling doctor.

He swallowed and nodded once, adjusting his glasses.

"And by the way..you're fired." This voice came from a very irate Superman who briskly was followed by the rest of the Original Seven, who carried both glares for the doctor and smiles for the young speedster who lied quietly in the bed, his eyes still adjusting to the dimmed light. His head was pounding and he sunk back into his pillow.

"Flash, I.." Hawkgirl whispered as she made her way to right of the hospital bed, her eyes were lined with tears but she forcibly blinked them away and gave a smile, "..I think you're an idiot."

Flash gave a small smile, closing his eyes slightly, "I know, Feathers, baby. Tell me something I don't know." Flash joked quietly, though the voice lacked it's usual enthusiasm and it almost caused her physical pain to hear the actual weakness within his voice.

"Do you still hurt? Did they give you pain killers?" Batman questioned quickly, observing his body with quizzical and cold eyes.

"Uh...repeat that again, Bats? Sorry..just woke up.." Flash murmured, eyes opening slowly, blinking a few times as though he were testing out new eyes.

"Scale of one to ten, pain."

Flash cleared his throat, "Seven."

"Did they give you pain medication?"

"Dunno.."

Batman flew out of the room in brisk floral, the doors clanging shut again earning Flash a round of pain in his head.

"Flash, what you did, was obviously heroic, but stupid. You've got to pay attention more, hot shot." John smiled, folding his arms as Superman stepped in.

"You've been out for four days, a few hours ago..well..we won't discuss what happened until your better but-"

"I died."

Superman's eyes widened, he stopped, mouth open for a moment before closing it.

"You knew?" Diana murmured, setting herself on the bed.

Flash cringed slightly from the pain exploding his burning chest but he tried to ignore it, "I..yeah..yeah, I do."

Shayera folded her arms, shaking her head, "Did you..do you remember anything from when you.."

A nurse bustled into the hospital room, looking quite disgusted at the dark knight who moved in steadily behind her. She quickly set up the drip of morphine and Flash let out a soft sigh, eyes still shut.

_'Tired...so tired..' _

__"...When I died...there was the speed force.."

It was silent in the room, and even the nurse paused momentarily after string up the drip to look at him with climaxed interest.

"Get some sleep, Flash." John murmured before slowly heading out of the room, his eyes darting back and forth across the room and as he left, everyone shared their goodbyes to the now sleeping hero.

_'...Speed Force..' _


	3. III

**There Will Be War**

* * *

Superman stood, back straight with a charming smile on his face, though his eyes held all levels of serious as the Original Seven piled into the conference room.

It had been two months since the "death" of Flash, and it had been deemed as unspeakable to utter a word about the speed force. No one had tried anyway.

Flash didn't say anything, they figured he might not have even remembered saying anything about it. Perhaps he didn't even remembering_'dying' _and if that be the case, it was good.

No one uttered a word.

Everything seemingly had went back to normal as they sat around the conference table, listening on to Superman's presentation with the occasional question, it seemed as though the entire meeting had been worthless. Not a single thing was different than the previous week's news.

"..Everything else hasn't changed from the last meeting we had, last week, but something new has come up.." Superman said, flipping to another page in his usual slideshow, though nothing came up. It was a black screen.

He turned off the advanced projector system and sat down slowly at the head of the table, putting on hand atop of another as he leaned forward.

"...concerning Lex Luthor."

It was deadly silent around the table and what must have been seconds, seemed like hours before Superman spoke again. "...He's changed locations again. Similar activity that had been in within the rainforest in Brazil, has left. The electricity peaks on the radars, the metal movements in the trees. Gone. However, similar activity has been spotted by some league members in the U.S, in the south. Namely, Virginia."

It was quiet around the table, Flash silently swallowed, _'...I've been watching you...'_

_'__Uncle Barry..'_

"This could work as a definite advantage on our side. If we were able to watch the area discreetly, we would be able to pick up on his activity." Batman reasoned quickly, pushing his gloved hands just above his mouth.

"So, the problem is being discreet about it when you can't use powers, or costumes." John summarized, leaning back, crossing his arms against his chest.

"If we posed like we lived there, it would be pretty discreet, I guess." Flash begun, rubbing the back of his neck nervously with one hand, "I mean, tons of people there just wander off in the woods. Ya' know, hunting, camping, that kind of stuff."

Flash felt as though his lungs were failing him, his brain recalling the distant memory of being dead. Uncle Barry, was watching him right now, as he spoke, smiling. This was his biggest chance.

He'd always been terrified of visiting his old hometown for fear of stirring something up with the family his parent's had been in a argument with.

Although, it was much more than just an argument. It was an all out war between them, which never truly was resolved. The opposing family had sworn the entire West family tree dead. He, Wally West, was _the _final member of the West family tree.

Returning back to the place of his parent's death worried him. If he were to go back, he may only start up the feud again if they hadn't finally buried the hatchet.

One too many had been killed in that blood bath of a war.

However, that had been _before _his powers. Not to say he was going to use them, however, he _did _feel safer owning all the speed in the world. Plus, at this angle he was taking, he would not only all the speed granted in the universe, but a human shield, a feathered fiery red head, an Amazonian ass-kicker, a light bending ex-soldier, a martian shape shifter, and a dark knight. Was it even possible to lose against some ruthless country hicks?

Superman looked at him with curiosity, "It's a good idea but-"

It was now or never..

"I've got a house there. Out in the middle of nowhere. A big one. It could fit all of us, easy." Wally spurted out quickly, eyes downcast in something close to fear of rejection.

It was silent in the room and Wally resolved to moving his thumb around the other before giving his signature goofy smile, "It could work, right?"

Superman nodded slowly but suddenly shot a perplexed expression, "Where did you get a big house in Virginia from?"

"Yeah, you told us you came from.." Diana begun, looking thoughtfully at the table as though the answer lied within the glistening metal top, "..Central City."

Flash nodded but gave a small shrug once more, "Well..I mean..Just because you're born somewhere doesn't make it your hometown. Right, Supes?"

Superman smiled slightly, realizing how deeply divulging into his personal life that one question may have caused, "Right." He paused momentarily before standing, putting an end to the conversation. He tried to respect his team mates privacy as much as possible, of course.

"We'll meet here in forty five minutes. Bring everything. We might be gone for a few weeks." Superman ordered quickly, the others stood fast, realizing that time was of the essence."...make sure to bring _normal _clothes."

Everyone tensed and realized the actual mission they were taking. Undercover.

That meant absolutely no costumes.


	4. IV

**There Will Be War**

* * *

It was obvious that any Superhero that wore a masked costume had slight mental issues to start with. The fear of another seeing their face was almost crippling.

Though, this was caused by a number of various things. If they had family to worry about, their face was the most dangerous thing that could ever be revealed to criminals. If they feared the paparazzi, their face could be the most precious thing in their life.

Their most valuable and hidden treasure.

Their identity.

And though the Original Seven were obviously all very close friends, and even considered each other family, it was done with great hesitation, that they removed their costumes and changed into normal, everyday clothing.

Of course, for people like John, Diana, Shayera, or J'onn, such matters didn't affect them, even though J'onn created a new being.

He chose to look like some everyday Joe, which Wally was relieved about. He hadn't expected him to change into something spectacular anyway, he was a plain man as it was.

Though Wally knew, that none of them would really want to be making a name for themselves as a city slick. He was already nervous enough about Bruce and Clark's dashingly handsome, yet brute, looks. They'd attract enough attention as it was.

Then there was the factor of John. John was very normal, of course, though he had an expression about him that almost screamed, _'I'm not scared of you, I don't care.' _

Then of course, Shayera was always curious about everything and anything.

Diana and Shayera were both gorgeous women and would be looked fondly upon by all the Country men who'd spent one too many night lonely, and of course, they both would not give in to such stares willingly.

Then there was himself, Wally West, who hadn't lived in the country in about ten years. He'd quickly lost his accent, and had just as fast lost any habit's he'd picked up in the small town of Cullowhee.

It was too small and dated to even be considered a town.

But as the taxi cab pulled up to a row of thick trees, about one mile outside of the 1800s-esque town, the cabbie suddenly stopped and looked quietly over at Wally, blinking silently for a moment before clearing his throat.

"Well, son, this is far as I can take 'ya."

Wally nodded and gave a smile, "Right, thanks, buddy." Wally replied, flashing a goofy little grin before passing him some money that the taxi driver looked on at greedily.

"Uh..you gave me a helluva lot more than needed..."

"Yeah, well, you took us out pretty far." Wally replied, quickly sliding out of the passenger seat of the car as the rest of the League slipped from the back three rows.

Wally, obviously, had been nominated for the passenger seat considering he was the only one who knew his way around the backwoods area.

Wally stepped around the back, grabbing each suitcase quickly and tossing each man or women one until each of them had their own luggage.

The speedster pushed a hand through his red hair which had, over the past year, darkened into something close to auburn, while his eyebrows had lightened a few shades. Along with these changes, the bridge of his nose had gained a few freckles over his time of painting his neighbors always-chipped fence.

Though he would admit, he felt sometimes that the ten inch high heels and mini-skirts that the elderly woman would wear, were a little suggestive. Especially when she would bring out lemonade and told him to take his shirt off. But he could never tell an old woman _'no' _

Diana smiled lightly before putting a hand on his head, "You let it grow out a little, it looks good." She then let out a soft laugh, "You're hair looks like that actor..uh...Bradley Cooper.."

Wally blushed considerably before giving a smile, "It looks good?"

"Yeah." She replied with a soft shrug before beginning to tow her suitcase beside him, Shayera rolled her eyes with a grin on her face as she watched Wally's face grow as red as his usual spandex.

"Cool." He murmured before his mind once more reminded him of his current situation.

His eyes strategically surveyed the area before they lit up once more and he moved towards a small brush which had been trampled on slightly, a dirt laden path was evident, twisting between trees within the dirty forest.

"Do you even know where you're going?" Shayera questioned with a raised eyebrow as she stepped over a few medium sized boulders.

"Yeah, this is the pathway me and my friends used to take to get to school. We'd have to walk about four miles.." He paused, pointing in the backwards direction of the way they were walking into the forest. "That'a way."

"Your parents didn't just drive you there?" J'onn asked, having been used to the idea that Earthling children were either driven by their parents, took a bus, or walked if it was near their house, however, this new knowledge was beginning to confuse him.

Wally was silent for a moment before turning his head slightly to give him a perturbed look, "We don't have cars..Look, J'onn this isn't _just _the country. This is..." Wally paused for a minute, trying to conjure up some words that summarize this within seconds, but what could truly describe what any of this was?

It was like a new way of life.

"..This town never left the 1800s. It's not that they're Amish or anything, it's just that..they don't get out much." Wally gave a smirk before breaking through a few more trees to reveal, finally, a long flat of land, where trees simply surrounded the town.

Mountains were distant, though easily visible, clouds encircling the tops.

It was like something off a postcard, and while some of the others stopped for just a moment to appreciate the sheer beauty of it all, Wally and Bruce continued down the mountainside, not giving the scenery a second thought.

It was a rare moment when they had something in common.

But with each step Wallace took, he could feel his heart pound into his feet. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and just as they came to the edge of the town, every dust beaten face, every questioning glare, and every shady outlaw, stared into his eyes.

He waited the moment of truth. Would they recognize him? Would they call him out for who he was? Would he be shot on the spot?

"Who're you?" A tired voice called from the porch of the General Store, an old African-American man with a banjo looked at him quizzically.

That was Ol' Sam. Just as old as ever. Though alive.

He'd practically been something close to a grandfather when he was young, and had been a good friend of the West family until the war had broke out between the Wests and the McCains.

At that point, Sam had withdrew himself from any activity with either family. He associated himself with no one.

Until the day Wally's parent's had been killed. At that point, Ol' Sam had though the entire thing had gone too far and the minute he heard the news, went and picked up young Wallace R. West and took him back to the store, and after a single phone call to his Uncle Barry, he'd had Wally on the first plane to Central City.

"An old friend of the Wests. I just came back to pay my respects. These are friends too. We'll only be in town for a couple of weeks."

Ol' Sam gave a quizzical eye. He was the elder of the town and with that came with the overseeing of the towns populace of visitors. He looked them over with a careful eye before setting them upon Shayera.

"Turn around, missy."

She gave him a bewildered look, but for the sake of their mission, gave a small smile, and turned around.

"She's got...she got..." Sam murmured, looking on with a shock ridden expression, "She's a..angel...sent from God."

Wally's eyes widened, how could he have possibly forgotten about Shayera's massive wings? Of _course _they'd think it was a sign from God.

"It's a birth defect." Wally spurted out quickly, "She was born with them."

Ol' Sam shook his head, "That ain't no defect, son. That's a God Blessed gift. She's an angel. An angel and I ain't willing to sayin' no to an angel. Course ya'll can stay long as ya' keep your peace with the McCains. Y'all be knowing about that fight they'd had a while back, right? The West family had just 'bout gone-"

"I've heard it. Don't worry!" Wally replied quickly with a nervous chuckle, "Seriously, don't worry about it or anything. I've heard about it a lot."

Sam nodded slowly, leaning back into the wooden seat, propping his leather boots onto a small table next to his Ale. "Yes sir'ee..." He murmured as he tipped his cowboy hat forwards onto his face, and tapping at the small metal fan that blew heavily onto his worn face,

"Yes sir'ee..."


	5. V

**There Will Be War**

* * *

The walk through the town was taken with as large of steps and as small of breaths possible. The very intensity of the scene almost took the breath out of even Batman, Gotham's Knight.

They walked through the wooden built town, straight through the middle, down the dirt beaten path.

"What're they staring at?" Shayera questioned as she surveyed the locals, her eyes darting about dangerously.

Wally swallowed and raised his eyebrows slightly, releasing a breath, he finally answered with, "Strangers."

Once they broke out from the town, they were met with various dirt pathways, in which Wally looked warily to the right.

"We go right?" Diana questioned looking carefully at his nervous gaze which Wally responded with a quick shake of the head.

"No! I mean..uh...no, to the left. The left."

And with that he trudged his suitcase on through the loose top-layer of dirt, and quickened his pace on the steep hill which seemed to lead to the heavens as they continued to escalade, but finally, after a few harsh minutes, they made it to the house, and when Wally had described the house as big, that had been an understatement.

The house was gigantic by all means.

It had clearly been built with master carpentry, though it was clear to see it had been built with two hands and a pair of legs. Not a machine. It was dated, but beautifully kept up.

"It was built in Eighteen-sixty by my Great-Grandfather before he went off in the Civil War. he built it for his wife, kids, and his grandparents. But they died soon after that." Wally continued, but by the soft gasp received by Diana and John's disgusted face, his eyebrows raised and he opened his mouth again, "Oh! But not in the house...uh...anyway..." he murmured shaking his head.

He lead them inside, carrying the suitcases up the steps quickly and setting them inside. He turned on a light switch and made haste to put on the A/C.

"No one's been in here for like..ten years, so...sorry about it being kinda warm. But it'll cool off fast. Mom always updated the house as much as she could. She hated living out here but, " He shrugged, "She couldn't do much about it. Anywho, most of the bedroom are pretty much alike. None of them are really all that much bigger or smaller than each other except for the master bedroom. If anyone wants to take it, go ahead, but there's enough of the other bedrooms to spare."

"Wally, it's your house, you should take it." John reasoned with a cocked eyebrow as though to speculate that something may be wrong with it, which he was entirely right.

Wally raised his hands at his face, shaking his head with a large smile, "Nu-uh. Thanks, but no thanks. Trust me, there's nothing wrong with it for _you _guys, but when I was kid, I wasn't allowed anywhere _near _their bedroom. I've never seen even seen it. It seems kinda wrong to sleep in it now."

"Why weren't you allowed to-.." John trailed off before his eyes widened, "Okay, never mind, I don't _want _to know."

"No! No, nothing like that. It's just that my dad was kind of...uh...old school? He didn't believe in children being their parent's room or anything. It's kind of an old rule...but...whatever. Anyway, you guys weren't their children, so whatever you want to do, I don't care."

Wally replied before speeding off to turn on the lights throughout the house, within seconds, all lights were flashing brightly and the chandeliers were sparkling, every nook and cranny was exposed beautifully beneath the twinkling lights.

The wood was rich and dark, and everything was old fashioned yet gorgeously restored to it's original beauty.

"Mom was pretty obsessed with keeping the place nice." Wally admitted, "Uh, okay, I'll take you in a tour real quick, but then I probably gotta go get some stuff from the store and whatever." He rattled, his ADHD once more setting in as his eyes darted around the room.

"Wally, we needed to ask you-" Superman begun but was swiftly cut off..

Wally turned to the left, leading them down two steps to a polished, sparkling living room, that had a thin layer of dust on it. Beneath it though, it was obviously a very nice room.

"The great room," He lead them to the next room through a back door, "..the family room, we spent almost all of our time here, if we were home." It was noticeably the only room with an electrical socket empty, and a television, along with a computer. Though all seemed to be no older than ten years dated perhaps.

The next room was lead down a long hallway in which many oil-painted original landscapes hung.

"Are these original paintings?" J'onn asked looking at them carefully, though no recognizing them to be of any Earthling artist's artwork.

"Oh, uh, yeah but they're just my Mom's." Wally replied before quickening his pace into the study where a large room full of different over-stuffed dark chair lied, book shelves covering every wall. A large ladder was hooked onto the back case which slide with ease at the very touch and was made with oak.

A few pull-chain lights sat on desks, and a colored glass windows allowed red light through. "Study."

"I imagine you didn't spend much time here?" Shayera joked as Bruce looked around though not nearly as interested in the house as he was at Flash's behavior.

For one, there was all this nervous energy. He stuttered, and wasted hardly any time cracking jokes. Two, there had been what he said to the man sitting outside the General Store. He'd told him he was just a friend of the West's. He was _one _of the Wests. Not a friend. Then there had been what the old man had _said. _

Batman's eyes narrowed. He'd figure it out.

He always did.

Wally presented them the kitchen next which was just as grandiose and updated as the rest of the house, and finally, he brought them to the formal dining room, dining room, greenhouse, and then begun them on the upstairs once he lead them up one of the two curved staircase.

They were huge, of course.

Once on the second floor, a common room sat, where they was a three-person couch, five chairs, a fairly large coffee table, and a fireplace along with a small bookshelf.

Upon inspection of the bedroom, there was ten in total from the second floor to the third floor, including the master bedroom which Wally begrudgingly, opened and looked at with a quick scan through.

He almost felt physically ill afterwards and sat down with the rest of the league in the family room.

"Wally, this house is beautiful." Shayera commented surprised, crossing her legs with a small smile.

"Yeah, I guess so." He replied modestly before standing and sighing, "Well, I'm just going to get a few things and I'll be back so...uh..make yourself at home. Kay?"

"You honestly know what to get? Or do you need some help there, Country Boy?" John asked dryly, his eyebrows as arched as a Mosque's doorway.

"Nope, I got it. Don't worry." Wally replied with a short, nervous laugh, "I got it. I got it." He continued as he sped out the doorway, down the hill, and finally stopped once on the edge of the town.

Once more, as he walked into the middle, stares met his peripheral vision. He tried to blink to make the nightmare go away, but he gave up after the fifth time.

Did they recognize him? No, they would have commented. They would say something. _Anything_._  
_

He walked up the stairs and nodded at Ol' Sam who still gave him a wary look, "Stranger, I never get your name."

Wally paused, "If he'd told him his name, it would be with no doubt, that he would recognize him. If he gave him his middle name, he would still be recognized, it had been his father's first name. Was he screwed? He thought quickly, his mouth beginning to dry.

"Me? Oh, sorry, I thought I gave it to you already. My name's Wal."

It wasn't a total lie. His name, after all, was Wallace. Though, he'd never gone by it and as far as he knew, no one called him by it lest he was in trouble by his father.

He wasn't even sure if Ol' Sam knew that his name had been Wallace or not, though it was the only chance he could take. Faking an entire name was risky.

If the League heard one of them call him Wal, weird faces might be made, but if someone called him an entirely different name like, Brad, then outbursts by Shayera or John would most certainly be made.

"Wal, eh? Alright. Have a nice day then." He murmured, tipping his hat downwards but suddenly, life sprung into him and he sat forward with a jolt of underestimated speed. "But..wait..have ya' heard anything? Anything from the last West family member, Wally? Wally West? We haven't heard of him since he'd moved with his Uncle. We only got to hearin' that his Uncle died. Nothing else."

Wally's eyes widened as a sudden urge to use his super speed climbed into his throat, "I..uh...yeah. He's..He's fine."

The old man's eyes glistened with unshed tears and he sat back calmly, blinking them back as though they'd never been evident, and then, just as quickly as he'd been aroused, he was calm again. "You look like him a lot. You do. Yes sir'ee."

Wally nodded slowly before pushing his way into the door. His heart sank into his chest however, when on had been as close with him as he had, Wally had almost _hoped _Ol' Sam would remember him and had made the short connection with Wal and Wally, but it seemed as though half of his mind had left him the day he'd been sent to live with his Uncle Barry. It was obvious Sam wasn't doing well.

Leading through the aisles with expert skill and sharp memory. Not a thing had changed.

He picked up everything he needed with enough speed to not be questioned and slammed it all onto the small checkout counter. The cashier shook in his very boots, but cleared his throat and punched in the transaction, he mustache twitching before he gave him a mysterious eye.

"Haven't seen you around. Who you?"

"Wal. I'm just visiting for a few weeks. Won't see me much after today. That's a promise." He replied with a tip of his head, "Thank you."

Just as he turned though, a large load of brown bags in hand, he made direct head contact with another man who backed off quickly, his eyes as wild as a desert storm.

"Boy, best be watching your step." He grumbled before opening his eyes slowly.

Wally opened his eyes, shaking his head, "Sorry, dud-.." He begun but upon immediate recognition, sucked in a breath, swallowed and changed his phrase quickly, "S-Sorry, sir. Sorry. I'll just be leav-"

"Wait a minute." The man mumbled, rubbing his head softly and a then running a hand through his greasy beard. He looked carefully at his every feature, before re-situating the dark felt cowboy hat on his head. "..Haven't been introduced to you yet. Who you?"

Wally swallowed, he could vividly remember that face. So very sharp and crisp and clear could he remember that face and the screams that had accompanied it.

_'Daddy? Daddy, get on up!' _

'_Your daddy's dead, and you are too if you don't get your ass out of this town. Don't you never come back, got that? A West better not set a foot on this damn dirt so long as the McCains are still alive.'_

"I.."

"I asked you a question."

"I..I'm Wal-...Wal! Wal! I'm Wal, sir."

"Wal? You're parent's wouldn't have named ya' Wal. They named you Walter or Wallace, isn't that right? Then go by it. You don't go by Wal."

"Y-yes sir."

Wally watched cautiously, did he remember him?

"You look familiar..you been through this town before?"

"Once or twice, I've really got to go. Sorry again. Bye-Bye!"

And with that, Wally ran at his fastest _normal _speed, groceries in hand and a burning pain in his chest from his seizing heart.


	6. VI

**There Will Be War**

* * *

Batman sat silently within the bedroom he'd chosen. The choices were not exactly various and it took hardly all of five minutes to choose. He took a bedroom on the third floor since no one else had, and was situated right across the hall of a bathroom, all the way at the end of a hall, with a view facing the town.

Perfect.

Quiet. Alone. Perfect.

And at that very moment, he sat, perched at the edge of a seat, looking down with sharp eyes as Wally West slowly walked up the hill.

Slowly, yes, slowly...

Slow was definitely not a style expressed by Wallace R. West lest it be one hundred percent necessary. It was something even the dimmest light bulb could figure out with one greet.

He watched with careful, intuitive eyes as Wally continued to the door, opening it with a soft creak, and closed it behind him.

Bruce pushed himself away from the window, standing and locking the door swiftly before pulling the seat to a desk.

He would grant Wally's great-grandfather this, when he made this house, he was most certainly not lazy. The bedrooms were nothing less than large.

He brought his computer up. It was simple to tell they had internet based off the computer downstairs, and as he logged on, it was easy to simply hack within the wi-fi network. Jumping straight into his most advanced programs, he stared blankly. Where did he even start, now?

It started with a question.

He would begin there.

What was the big question behind this?

He shook his head slowly. He knew that he was supposed to be focusing on Lex Luthor and his whereabouts, but...

He bit his lip, sitting forward slightly.

If he didn't have this one small assumption answered and put away, he knew he wouldn't be able to focus on anything. It was one downside to his severe OCD in his detective work. Everything must be answered and perfectly assessed, one at a time. _That _was how a puzzle was truly solved.

He bit his lip again before retracting his teeth upon noticing his bad habit. He grabbed a piece of mint gum, sticking it in his mouth and beginning in on chewing.

What was the problem?

_'Fl-...Wally, has been acting unusual..but, how? Why? How: He falsely stated who he was. Followed by something about his family from an old man outside the General Store. Why: something to do with his family?' _

He paused, blinking slowly before typing quickly into his advanced search programs, _**West.** _

He narrowed his eyes at the number of results popped up, **_11,134 results._**

He tried again, **_Rudolph West, Virginia. _**

**_3 results. _**

A twinge of success ripped through him and he cleared his throat, looking at his three choices to click on, an immediately found the first one to meet his needs.

He clicked on it and found a picture of a gruff looking man, a dark brown, short, beard, sharp blue eyes, and shortly cut hair.

His eyes pierced into his, and gave his bat-glare a run for it's money. Even through the computer monitor he appeared threatening.

Though the small biography held within the countries database was informative, it lacked anything pertinent and so, he resulted to glaring momentarily.

_'What information did this give you? Hardly anything. Think clearer. Fine, it told me for one that he died. From what? He was killed. How? It didn't say...' _

He swiped his fingers at the keyboard once more and the results popped up in few amounts. He clicked on one and resumed his investigation.

After an hours time, his information was scarce, though, it was a beginning.

For one, Rudolph West was of course, Wally's father. He was killed for an unknown reason and by an unknown person. The West family hadn't asked for an autopsy, and no one saw it necessary to perform one as everyone thought it'd been suicide.

Bruce Wayne thought different.

Many articles also stated there may have been added stress on him which had caused him to go over the edge.

He'd also lost an uncle, aunt, and four cousins during the same time period, all blamed on different causes, though none of which appeased the dark knight. He knew better than these lame excuses.

Then there were the McCains who had apparently, around the same time of Rudolph West's death, had a good portion of his own family killed, including two sons, an uncle, and his brother. All he had left was his wife and himself.

Nothing much more had been said about the occurrences, and apparently was being kept under lock and key.

It, however, was definitely a start.


	7. VII

**There Will Be War**

* * *

The last rays of sunlight escaped from the mountainous terrain and not another question had been asked by the league to the obviously nervous Wally. All of them silently agreeing that it would probably just be best to wait out their questions.

Dinner had been prepared, surprisingly, by the red-headed bachelor himself who whipped up something as though he'd been a southern cook all his life, making fried chicken, and dirty rice and beans along with green beans. He cooked it to perfection and placed it on the table modestly with a small smile as the others looked in almost near shock.

They knew he'd been cooking but no one would have guessed how great of a chef he really was with the way he always tended to eat his seven meals a day at the watch tower, never at his own home.

They guessed he couldn't cook.

Hell, hardly any of them could even make scrambled eggs if they'd tried. They'd always had the watch tower and before then, most of them had either been cooked for or had always gone out for something simple. They were busy. Always.

"Where did you learn to cook like this?" Diana asked with a small smile on her face.

Wally gave a meek smile before shrugging, "Well, Mom never had a girl, so..she usually liked to teach me cooking or whatever..I dunno..I was bored a lot when I was a kid. There was nothing to do around here or anything. I mean..other than hunting and getting lost in the forest."

With that, everyone could agree.

"Yeah, this is really..away..from everything. I mean, it's just so.." John begun before shrugging, "It's nice, I guess, the quiet. But I wouldn't be able to stand it for more than a few months."

Wally's grinned didn't fade and he sat back slightly, "You're telling me. When I first saw the city...wow. I couldn't do enough in one day."

"Why did you move to the city, Wally? Did your parents just decide they needed a change of pace?" Shayera asked, genuinely curious as she took a drink of the apple cider.

She'd never had apple _cider. _

"Uh..not really. Did anyone need pepper? I forgot it. Sorry." Wally avoided her question like the plague as he stood, grabbing a pepper grinder out of the cabinet as well as a salt shaker. He almost laughed at the sight.

His mother would never had allowed salt at the table. She said she put enough salt in the food, and that it was bad for her two boys hearts to be shaking it all day long.

He placed them both in the middle of the table before contuing his dinner, Shayera dropped the subject, noticing it perhaps, was a sore point, however, it seemed that Bruce wasn't in the mood for a quiet dinner.

"So then why did you move?"

Wally's eyes widened, he knew that there was no escaping the claws of a bat. Once they tethered onto their victim, they didn't let go until you either squealed, or were killed by his razor sharp teeth.

Not to say that once of his fellow leaguers would actually murder him, but the fall from not answering him would certainly hurt. One way or another, the bat would figure it out.

"I uh..it was just that.." Wally murmured, struggling to find an answer, "My Uncle Barry took me in and my parent's died. I don't know how. I wasn't told."

It was silent around the table before Diana looked up slowly, "I'm sorry..we didn't know.."

"No! Its fine! Don't worry about it, seriously. I didn't even know them that great or anything." Wally repied, shrugging it off, "My Uncle was my real dad. My real parent's were weirdos."

Instantly the mood was lightened and John let out a short laugh, "So are you."

* * *

As the clock on the opposite wall of his childhood bedroom struck twelve, he let out small sigh as fear twanged at his heart. It was now or never. Past twelve, it would be too late. He might go to sleep after twelve.

But who knew _when _Bruce Wayne's bedtime was?

Wally slowly stood up from his bed.

_'Come on, Wal. You can do this! Just talk to the guy.' _

_'He'll kill me..' _

_'Wallace, he's not gonna kill you, man. Come on. He's a superhero. His parent's were killed too. He'll understand. He'll **help**.' _

_'Why would he help me?' _

_'Because you're his friend.'_

Wally gave out a small sigh, and mustering up all the strength he had, slowly walked through the door and then quickly down the hall, up the stairs, and to the last bedroom, parallel to the bathroom.

That had been his grandmother's bedroom.

He knocked lightly, hoping to not disturb him, if by chance, he wasn't asleep. The door creaked open with hesitance and suddenly, he was looking into the cold and questioning eyes of Bruce Wayne, millionaire.

"Hey there, Bats, I uh..needed to talk to you about-"

"Your secret gun artillery room? Or the other secret room with all the newspaper clippings about the McCain family getting medals for local hunting sports?"

Wally cringed, he was glad he'd just fessed up now, and then gave a ghost of a smile.

"Yeah, both of those..and more..I.."

"Why did you really leave, Flash?"

Wally looked down the hall, and through the window to his right, as though to ensure he wasn't being watched, when Bruce suddenly sighed and opened the door wider. "Come on."

Wally entered the room, sitting down quietly on a spare chair and Bruce on another one.

It was odd, sitting there in a bedroom he'd been in maybe twice before, with the famous Bruce Wayne without his usual creepy cowel and black cape.

He folded his hands together, unsure of where exactly to even start. He slowly looked up into the eyes of the batman, and saw no hatred, no malice, not even stone. Perhaps it was a softer side of Batman that he'd never been allowed to see before.

"Who killed them?"

It was..sympathy. Or the closest shred of it you would see out of those azure eyes of his. He knew the pain of losing people. He knew the pain of being abandoned by the two care givers that were supposed to be there for you, for life. He knew the pain of being spared, when you didn't even want to be.

He knew this same agonizing clench on the heart that would drive both of them to perform good for the community.

He knew this all too well.

But he'd never expected for Wally West, the jokester, the young one, the loving bachelor, to ever had gone through the same scarring, haunting past, he had.

"I tried to save them, Bats. My dad told me, go get your gun, Wallace. He was making me go out with him with all my cousins. My cousins were a lot older than me. I think they were actually my great cousins. I..I don't remember. We were going to kill them all. The McCains. Kill them all. I didn't kill any. I promise, Bats. I promise. I wouldn't do it, I-"

"Wally."

Wally stopped mid-sentence, swallowing as he gripped the chairs arm rests, his eyes vigourously trying to blink back the tears he knew were fighting back.

"The McCain's killed them?"

Wally nodded slowly, sitting back slowly into the chair, "Ol' Sam..he..the guy outside The General Store, you know. That's Ol' Sam."

"Okay."

"I ran away and Sam found me and he got me on the first flight out of here. To go live with my Uncle. The McCain's said to not come back. Ever."

"Why did you come back here then? We could have done this mission with you if you'd just told us." Batman replied, his voice a little warmer than usual, though still chapping cold.

"When I died.."

The air seemed to turn silent, Batman's eyes widening slightly as he awaited the next few words that he'd been wanting to hear for some time though had never asked. He'd silently wondered about what had happened during the minutes that Flash had officially been declared dead.

"When I died..I went to the speed force..I saw Barry and he told me that he'd always wanted me to go back here. Just one last time, ya' know. To settle the fight once and for all. To..kinda..make peace, I guess.."

Bat could hardly believe his ears. Was his rational reasoning to life and death being destoryed with these few words? Wally had gone somewhere akin to the bibical Heaven? Paradiso?

He mentally slapped himself. He needed to focus. No scientific rationalizing or research could allow him to reach _that _answer, so it was best he quit obsessing.

"So you did what your dream told you to do, and came here. To stop a war between your now dead family and the McCain's? I don't follow."

"It's about peace, Bats. You know..like..forgiveness?"

Batman would have smirked if his cowl had formally been placed, but instead, looked on placidly, before shaking his head slightly, "What was the war started over?"

"..A land dispute or something stupid like that and one thing led to another..the war went on for years. But, Ba-...Bruce, I think I need help."

Batman looked up and with that smidge of sympathy lurking in the artic of his eyes, he blinked, let out an almost silent sigh and swallowed.

"Fine."


End file.
